Classic Poem

To Helen

Could I be God a little while,
A new and lovely law I'd make:
No longer when the time drew near
For us our homing flight to take
With Death our much abused good friend, —
For us to leave our shell of clay
And wing immeasurably far: —
Should we grow worn and pale and gray.

No! but in beauty we should wax
Like flowering flames upon a wind,
Until our burning loveliness
As with a mystic splendour shined,
Until all those who knew the law,
Would murmur: " Surely death is nigh,
For she has grown so exquisite,
So exquisite she can but die! "